Dark Fingers

But it was too late. The piece of her soul held by the bond was slipping away, pulled by invisible hands that refused to release it. Both Rio and Agatha felt the blood and magic between them stretch, thinning, weakening, a fragile thread that could no longer be reclaimed no matter how hard she tried.The book demanded its toll.It stretched—decades of intertwined lives, of shared secrets and vulnerable moments, all undone. It stretched, burning the memories of when they had built a family, of when they had been each other’s shelter. It stretched, pulling them apart, tearing through their shared understanding that even for them, even for this love, there was a limit—a breaking point. The noose tightened around their bond, and with one final, inevitable snap, it was severed.Agatha felt the unraveling deep within her, her arms overtaken by the dark power of the Darkhold.“There’s just Death without you,” Rio’s voice trembled, resigned to what she could no longer change. “Just Death."ORHow Agatha got the Darkhold, and in exchange for what. Or for whom.